Stripped
by claricius
Summary: Neon Norstrard...the spoiled brat everyone knows...or was she?
1. Chapter 01

**Chapter 1: "I'm Ok"**

_ Once upon a time there was a girl_

_ In her early years she had to learn_

_ How to grow up living in a war she called home_

_ Never knew just where to turn for shelter from all the storm_

_ It hurt me to see the pain across my mother's face_

_ Every time my father's fist put her in her place_

_ Hearing all the yelling I would cry up in my room_

_ Hoping it would be over soon_

I hurriedly ran upstairs to my room without looking back. I hate it, I hate the sound of it...the sound of mother crying. I huddled in a dark corner, trying to absorb what could have caused their argument again. It's always like this everyday...my parents always arguing, if not over me, they'd fight over money. What about my eighth birthday? Had they forgotten about it? Of course mother won't...she'd buy me the best toys in town! But father...he never cares that much. Maybe, he even forgot about me, and instead of being at peace with mother, instead of making us happy, here he is again, arguing with her, stabbing her with words unimaginable, words that torment. I don't wanna see it...I had to seek refuge in my room. I don't know...I don't know what he's going to do. I just don't want to see it...who knows if he could do anything more than that...what if...what if...no! I violently shook my head, trying to push away such ill thoughts from my head. I hate to think about it! Now I'm just hearing father's angry curses, my mother's tearful pleas, the sounds of various objects crashing here and there. I hate the sound of it all! I could feel tears flowing from my eyes now...I angrily drew my hands up and tried to cover my ears...trying so hard to cover my ears so as not to hear those horrible moans. Silence. I had always known that sudden silence is an ill omen. Tears were flowing uncontrollably now. No...no...father...don't...NO! 

_ Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same_

_ And I still remember how you kept me so afraid_

_ Strength is my mother for all the love she gave_

_ And every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday_

_ And I'm Ok_

Crying, I gently rubbed my bruised arm. I was beaten up by father, saying that we were nothing but a nuisance to him...me and my mother. When I arrived earlier, I saw mom lying on the floor, unconscious, her clothes torn, her porcelain skin were tinted here and there by black and blue bruises, blood was trickling from her mouth. There were traces of dried tears on her cheek. I screamed and ran towards her, but I was stopped by the iron hands of my father. He slapped me hard in the face, which caused me to fall face first on the floor. I cried, and I keep repeating all over and over again the words, "Papa, please stop...please..." But that didn't make any difference; it only made him fume even more. He angrily beat me up, until I was a battered doll no longer finding the strength to stand up. Finished with his routine, he angrily stormed out of the room and a few moments later, I heard one of our cars zooming into the distance. Where he is going, I do not know. I would not even dare to ask. All I know is that I'm so afraid of him...and it made me feel relieved that he's gone for the meantime. I slowly crawled towards my mother. I cradled her head, and brushed away some of her reddish-purple locks away from her face. I leaned against the wall and cried silently. _Papa...why?_ "We love you...me and your daughter...we love you very much..." Those words came from her heart. I looked at her tear-streaked face and my sobs only increased. 

_ I often wonder why I carry all this guilt _

_ When it's you that helped me put up all these walls I've built_

_ Shadows stir at night through a crack in the door _

_ Echoes of a broken child screaming please no more_

_ Daddy don't you understand the damage you have done_

_ For you it's just a memory but for me it still lives on _

With their heads bowed down, mom's personal maids went in and slowly carried her to lay her down in the bed. I watched them move about in silence. Gaston, the head of our servants motioned me to go back to my room. I nodded in response. He was about to accompany me in case I would suddenly breakdown, but I assured him with knowing eyes that everything's going to be alright. Besides, I'm slowly getting used to it; the only hard part to overcome is when hearing your mother's cries of pain and fearing what your father can do to her. I walked silently through the dark corridors of our mansion. At last I had reached my room, the room that had seen all of me...my joys, my sorrows...my accomplishments...my sufferings. I sat on my bed in a fetal position, and the tears came again. I kept on saying to myself that it was me who had caused all mother's suffering...maybe if I wasn't born, they would be happy. I took a glimpse on my neatly arranged desk and saw my unfinished school projects. School...I always dislike the kids at school. How come they are happy...always happy? I gently rocked myself. That's why I tried hard to shun away from them. And the more I try to get away, the more they come towards me. I guess being rich made a bit of difference. I envy their lives...their too happy. As if they never experienced similarly the early pangs of my wrecked childhood. But I couldn't resist...I need to be happy...even only at school. I don't want them to hate me like father does...that's why I try belong to the popular group. I would laugh at children who are always crying, but deep inside, I cry with them. I would scorn children who are silent and unapproachable, but deep inside, I am also alone. I would tease children who are always laughed at because if their problems, but deep inside, I share a great burden with them. I had tried so hard to forget, but the more I try, the more I become aggressive at school. I learned to be demanding...I learned to become impatient to my classmates if what they had done did not please me. I shivered. It's getting late, and the next day, I will certainly receive another beating from father. He never cares about us, as if it every inhuman deed he had done were a mere memory in the past, as if he isn't guilty about it. Daddy had really changed me. He was the one who had evoked me to try to do my best...to prove my life's worth. But I tried hard to be good. I tried so hard to be the opposite of what he says about me. But in the end, I had become this stubborn and hard-headed girl who would hurt anyone if I haven't got what I wanted. I don't understand where I went wrong. And I don't know why...why I turned out to be what I have never wanted to be. 

_ Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same_

_ And I still remember how you kept me so afraid_

_ Strength is my mother for all the love she gave_

_ And every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday_

I was awoken by soft footsteps muffled by an oriental rug in my room. I pretended to be asleep, but for a brief moment I opened one eye and seeing that it was my mother, I closed it again. I felt her sit beside my bed. It was obvious that she was crying. She gently kissed my cheek and whispered in between sobs while slowly tucking me in the soft covers, "I'm sorry, baby...I'm so sorry...but mommy has to say goodbye for a while...tell Daddy...tell Daddy that I love you both...I will be always be here on your side...guiding you...my child...please live for me...fight with all your strength to live...please...remember that...I love you..." And with those words, she left the room quietly. I wish I had the strength to get up and comfort her, but I was crying myself too. I didn't want her to see me cry. I marvelled at her faith in Dad. Even if Daddy hurts her everyday, she still loves him. She loves him, but I am beginning to hate him. _I love you too..._I whispered back at the closed door, knowing too well that she will never answer in return. 

_ It's not so easy to forget, all the marks you left along her neck_

_ When I was thrown against cold stairs_

_ And everyday afraid to come home in fear of what I might see next_

The next day before I go to school, I woke up really late. I guess this is the price I have to pay for staying up late all night...I shouldn't have cried. As I was dashing down the stairs to catch up for the moments wasted, I accidentally bumped into father. I knew it; he'd either curse me or slap me hard on the face. Apparently, he did both, which sent me flying down the staircase. Good thing it was just only a few steps before reaching the landing. The servants present at the moment looked at me with sympathy for a moment, and then turned away, returning to their duties, as if they saw nothing. I did not expect help from our servants, either. Besides, I'm not angry at them, because it's not their fault. They were told by father not to pay attention to any of the "small quarrels" and his "scolding" to my mother or me, lest they would be out of their jobs; and if they ever speak of it to outsiders, they would be silenced. That way, I learned to fend for myself. I quickly learned how to dress my wounds and cover up my bruises. I had learned how to do this before, when my nanny took care of my cuts and bruises after father beat me up and left the house. During these times, I watched her with great interest, and soon I didn't need anybody's help. That's what father told me...he always shouts it in my face that I must learn to live by myself to prove to be a worthy heir in this family...and that I am all alone...that no one will ever love me...that everyone hates me. Deep inside I know that this was not entirely true, since I still have my mother...and...and...only my mother...and myself. In this way, I learned to refuse anybody's help... and I believed that I must do anything by myself...because in the end, I will be all alone... 

I ran to my parents' room as soon as the chauffeur brought me home that afternoon. I was so excited to tell her of my accomplishments at school. My teacher complimented me for my project, and I resolved that I'd waste no time telling her that I had done well. And it's all because of her. She filled me with such inspiration and determination to prove that even though I experience problems, I will still be a good girl. I ran up the stairs, almost bumping at Gaston because of enthusiasm. And when I opened the door to their room, I didn't see mom sitting at the bed. And I wondered...until I heard the sound of something dripping in the bathroom. _ Maybe mom forgot to close the faucet..._, and slowly turned the doorknob. I froze, shocked, at the horrible sight. Mom was lying there in the bathtub. She was staring at me with...with her lifeless eyes. Blood was dripping from her left wrist, forming dark puddles of blood on the tiled floor. Beside the puddle was a bloodstained knife...stained with her blood. The tub is overflowing with a dark liquid. I grew numb in horror as I realized that it was blood...her blood mixed in water. I couldn't stand the sight. I could feel my body slowly breakdown. My knees started to give way. I tried looked away, but I couldn't. I was too numb to move, to feel the hurt, too frightened to face the truth. Uncertainty started to fill my mind. I didn't know how to react, if I should scream in pain at her loss, or bellow in anger at her weakness...or what. My mother, my protector, my consolation when father is mad, my inspiration, the one in which I had found the strength to live...she's gone. She had killed herself. She had finally given up. She had given up on me. She didn't care if I was left here alone...alone to face this sufferings...she's being selfish! Didn't she think of me? Had she forgotten about me? Did she really love me? If she did love me, then why did she leave me? I couldn't find the tears to cry. I could only fell my heart ache so much. I could literally feel it break. I couldn't believe it. She's dead. I want to run away...to be free from this accursed fate...to be awake from this horrible nightmare...but sadly, this is reality... 

Her final words flashed back in my mind_..."I'm sorry, baby...I'm so sorry...but mommy has to say goodbye for a while...tell Daddy...tell Daddy that I love you both...I will be always be here on your side...guiding you...my child...please live for me...fight with all your strength to live...please...remember that...I love you..."_

_ Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same_

_ And I still remember how you kept me so afraid_

_ Strength is my mother for all the love she gave_

_ And every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday_

_ And I'm Ok_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hunter X Hunter; the song I'm Ok is by Christina Aguilera from her album Stripped. Sigh...I've always been a fan of hers...c",)


	2. Chapter 02

** Chapter 2: "The Voice Within"**

_ Young girl don't cry, _

_ I'll be right there when your world starts to fall_

_ Young girl it's alright,_

_ Your tears will dry, you'll soon be free to fly_

It's been six years now and here I am again, locked up in my room, crying to myself like a baby. But it doesn't matter, anyway. They all know that I always cry. And no one cares. No one gives a shit about me. And I am used to it. Always like this, crying and crying. And that's the only way I could release myself from the painful grip of the past. A voice, so vaguely familiar, echoes in my mind. The voice keeps on repeating that it will never leave me, that it will always be on my side, guiding me. And it somehow soothed my raging emotions. At least it gave me a spark of hope that someday, all of these would end. That is, if there is still a _someday_...

_ When you're safe inside your room you tend to dream_

_ Of a place where nothing's harder than it seems_

_ No one ever wants to bother to explain_

_ Of the heartache life can bring and what it means_

I looked around my room. Every piece of decoration was what a girl could ever dream of. And I smiled. I had always liked this room for that reason. Everything in here is what I exactly wanted it to be. This is my sanctuary, the place I run to whenever I feel alone. The place in which I celebrate my moments of triumph most...alone. The place that had seen all of me. I don't know, but every time we go to long trips, I would surely miss the warmth of this room. Maybe because it had been a great part of my life. Maybe because, it was meant to exist in order to help me overcome my trials in life.

I looked outside the window. Somehow, looking at the marvelous scenery outside, bathed in the glorious rays of the sun, made me feel much better. What if...what if I were born to different parents? Would it make any difference? I would be very grateful to have a different father...a kinder, much gentler one. Yes, we might not be as rich as now...but come to think of it...when you'd come home every afternoon from school, no curses would greet you after a grueling school day, no slaps would redden your cheek, no sobs escaping from the lips of your mother. And we will play, and study, and rest all together in the warmth of a home, so much different, so much better from the cold, air-conditioned rooms of our mansion. The mere thought of it made me smile, a rare kind of smile that wasn't seen on my face for quite a long while. 

My mother...how I love her so much. Until now, despite of what she had done, I could still feel that I really do love her, that I miss her so much. I don't want to replace her for somebody else. For me, she is the ideal, perfect mom; she is everything a mother should be. Imagine loving a person who totally ruined your life, with never a thought of rage crossing your mind? Only my mother can do that. She had spent all her life devotedly to my father, always dutifully obeying his orders, trying to do her best in every little way; but was always repaid by such brutality when he's not pleased at her _performance_. But still, she held on courageously, in order to save the family that she had worked hard to build. She survived it all, she had taken it all in, she accepted her fate...yes she accepted it because she had thought that in that way, father would learn to love her back. But she was mistaken. Father did not feel anything for her; he just married her for the sake of money. Until she realized all of this. The courage she had kept alive in herself for my sake was slowly fading. In the end, she gave up the struggle. In the end, her weakness overcame her. In the end, she took her life. All of it ended in just a moment. All of it ended in the blink of an eye. All of it ended in just one slash of the cold metal of a knife. Why...why? 

Why did all of this have to happen? Why do I have to suffer? Why...please, answer me...is the meaning of life like this? To suffer all your life and die bringing all your hardships with you even at your grave? Somebody, please listen! Please...help me understand...what all of these mean...why all of these happen...

_ When there's no one else look inside yourself_

_ Like your oldest friend just trust the voice within_

_ Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way_

_ You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within_

And now, I trust nobody but myself. Yes, because in the end, I will be all alone. Yet, I also owe this all to the voice inside myself...the voice which keeps guiding me...the voice that will never leave me. It had given me the will to thrive.

Who needs friends, anyway? You wouldn't know who are real and who aren't. Especially in my situation. With my reputation as the famed daughter of that damned Norstrard guy...you wouldn't know if they just want to befriend you in order to have the pleasure of being called as the best friend of the richest girl in town, and make you dish out some money for them. Or maybe they're just envious of you...their so green with envy at your fortune that they have the courage to stab you in the back for the pleasure of seeing you plummet down into the world of the "untouchables". You wouldn't know whom to trust. Sometimes, you'd have to disguise yourself in order to be suitable for their group. As for me, I didn't dare talk to my former friends about my situation. I was afraid that they're just going to spread the word around the school like fire. And they would be chanting mockeries and rants over and over again. And besides, they wouldn't listen just for the sake of _listening_...well, you know what I mean. So I just kept it all inside myself and listened to all of their nonsense chitchat of what's in and what's not. Who cares? If only they would be _me, _even just for a day, they'd surely be conscientious of what their doing to me. Or maybe, even pity me. Or worse, despise me and turn their back from me in disgust. Nobody else would fit into Neon's shoes. Only me.

_ Young girl don't hide_

_ You'll never change if you just run away_

_ Young girl just hold tight_

_ Soon you're gonna see your brighter day_

Ever since mother's death, father had stopped beating me, but he had grown cold, and has almost reached the point wherein he never talks to me. He thought that I will experience much more pain in that way. And he was right. Yeah, it was better this way, never feeling the heavy hands of your own father burning your cheeks with the sharp pain of rejection. But in the cold depths of the so-called silent treatment, you wouldn't know what the demon would do next. You wouldn't know what kind of conspiracy is forming in the back of his mind. It makes you think. And thinking brings out ill memories of the past. Thinking kills me.

There was a time when I was at the point of running away. I was sitting in one of the gazebos in our garden. It was my twelfth birthday. As usual, only our housekeepers greeted me. But there was no celebration. I was contemplating about many things, which made me fume inside. All of that until I felt a presence. That presence had sent surges of shivers down my back. I knew it. He has planned a new game for me to play. I heard his footsteps nearing me ever so slowly as if time had stopped. And then I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. I had enough of it. I stared at him in the eye. I heard myself hiss while brushing off his arm, "Well, what do you have in store for me this time, huh, demon? Just leave me alone!" He immediately backed off, apparently looking stunned for a second. It was the first time in years that I had fought back. Usually, it was the other way. I would only cry and keep silent. But things are different now. I had grown up. I had to fight. I won't let him take away what was left of me. 

"What? You didn't hear what I said? I said, go to hell, you demon!" I said rather sarcastically with my hand placed on my waist. His surprised look was quickly replaced with a menacing look on his face, as if he were about to kill me. I saw at the corner of my eye his raised arm. He is going to hit me. But I'm not going to allow that. If he hurts me physically, then I'll pierce him with words he has not yet heard before. As his hand was about to strike my cheek, I cried out again, "Go ahead, slap me!" He paused in midair. "Why? Afraid to hurt me? Are you afraid to kill your daughter? But that's what you want to do before, don't you? Why, don't you have enough strength to do that?" He drew back his hand away from me and turned his back. He started to walk away. But that wasn't enough. I want to show him that I'm not a martyr like mother. I wanted to show him that I've grown up. I wanted to show me that I'm not yet giving up.

"Hey, go back here you jerk! You're nothing after all! You couldn't even bring yourself to kill your own daughter! Because you know that all of Mommy's money will go to me! And it also stated in her last will that if anything happens to me, all of her damned fortune will go to her charity works, leaving nothing to you. And your dream of dominating the black market would never be fulfilled..." I saw him freeze in his steps, so I continued. Besides, I kinda feel good about this. I feel quite relieved of my burden, speaking what is in your mind, letting it all out.

I smirked, "Who would've thought that Mother would be much shrewder than you? That goddamn bitch sure is a sly fox. H-hey, I'm still talking to you! Want to kill me, bastard? Go ahead! Kill me! Kill me! KILL ME!!!" I was cut off when he suddenly hit my face with the back of his hand. But I wasn't surprised. I didn't feel any pain, either. Anyway, I was already expecting all of this. And I don't care. I just want to die. 

I felt his iron grip in my arm. "Get up, foul-mouthed bitch!" I forcefully dragged me towards the direction of our house. He kicked the doors wide open, which made the servants gasp. But they didn't do anything. I helplessly looked at them. Without me knowing it, my eyes gazed at them, as if I were pleading them to help me. Some looked away feeling guilty at not helping me. Others choked back a sob and returned at their work, afraid to arouse the anger of my father.

Eventually, he let go of me. I was relieved for the moment, but was too shocked to feel his hands taking hold of my pinkish locks. He pulled me by my hair. I refused to budge. He forcefully pulled me up the stairs. I could literally feel my scalp rip apart. I could feel him dragging me towards the direction of my room. But I didn't fight back. I just wish I would die...

He brutally pushed me to the bed. I will surely die...

I was expecting a punch, a slap, a kick, a curse, o-or anything that would leave me injured...

But nothing came. 

Instead, I felt him pat my head and mutter, "You've grown very much like her." He turned away and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

I was startled. Me? Very much like...her? Who was he referring to? My mother? But I've never known Mother to stand up against him. She loved him too much to fight back. And that's the only thing I hate about her; she loved him too much to think of herself. Nevertheless, I don't care. I couldn't fight back, because the trauma of my early days make my courage falter. He still controls me. And if I couldn't do anything to stop him, then I will just run away. Running away is the only option. Or so I thought it was.

_ Now in a world where innocence is quickly claimed_

_ It's so hard to stand your ground when you're so afraid_

_ No one reaches out a hand for you to hold_

_ When you look outside look inside to your soul_

I've never experienced joy. In my whole life, all I experienced was anxiety. Even as a child, instead of playing outside and running around free, I was trapped inside these walls of falseness. I was never allowed to live like anyone else. I would always lock myself up in my room, never daring to venture outside; even within our mansion's grounds. I always feared that he is here, there...everywhere, anticipating my moves, always ready to pounce when nobody is around. As if he were some monster lurking in the dark. Of course that isn't true, but my fear of him had been etched in my core, and I can't just shake it away. My childish fears always seem to get hold of me. Until now, I kept imagining...and fearing what kind of monster I am living with. 

I tried to escape, but to no avail. Once, I almost reached the gate, but...

I heard a voice. Yeah, it was that inner voice again. Telling me never to give up. But I fought it off. I was determined to run away from this horrible life. But there it was again. Saying that once I go outside that gateway, I would surely regret my deed. Yes, it will give you temporary happiness...a momentary feeling that you are free...but after that, what? You don't know much about the "outside world". You're not yet ready to face reality. There are other people who suffer more than you. You're luckier to have financial support unlike them. 

So? What the hell do I care? Might as well live in poverty than to stay in this lavish hell. 

And then it said, think about yourself. Running away isn't the only option. If you run away, will it do you any good? Will it improve your life? Will it erase the past? The only way to beat a ghost is to face it.

_ When there's no one else look inside yourself_

_ Like your oldest friend just trust the voice within_

_ Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way_

_ You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within_

But I was still stubborn. I'll just commit the atrocious crime of suicide, just like mother. I will put everything to an end. In death, there is no turning back. And I resolved that I will never regret running away. Never.

_ Life is a journey_

_ It can take you anywhere you choose to go_

But death is just another form of running away. Much worse. Because, yes, you can't reverse death...but will it make you happy? Well then, if you can't do it for yourself, then do it for your mother. Remember what you promised in her grave? You promised that you will live for her. You promised that you will fight the trials in your life. You promised that you will never give up.

_ As long as you're learning_

_ You'll find all you'll ever need to know _

I shrugged it all off. I thought, if mother were still alive, then she will allow me to run away. Maybe, she will even come with me. I looked around. I will surely miss this place...my childhood...what am I thinking? What am I going to miss in my childhood, anyway? My father's heavy hands? My mother's pitiful weeping? 

_ (Be strong)_

_ You'll break it_

Remember...your mother held on that long for you...she didn't want you to suffer the same fate as hers...

_ (Hold on)_

_ You'll make it _

This is enough for me. I fell on my knees and cried. I couldn't help it. I thought that I had grown numb...stone cold of father's insulting treatment to me. But here I am, crying my heart out, again. My tears never seem to cease flowing. 

_ (Hold on)_

_ Just don't forsake it because_

_ No one can tell you what you can't do_

_ No one can stop you, _

_ You know that I'm talking to you_

I can't believe it. I promised myself not to be as weak as mother. And here I am, thinking of running away, thinking of dying...what kind of daughter would break her promise to her mother? Be brave. Fight. Never give up. No one can stop me from living life the way it should be...not even father. No, not him. After all, it would feel much better to know that you had overcome this stage of life...than to give up while you still have the strength to go on.

_ When there's no one else look inside yourself_

_ Like your oldest friend just trust the voice within_

_ Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way_

_ You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within_

I shouldn't have thought of running away. I shouldn't have thought of killing myself.

I feel dirty. I feel impure. 

I betrayed mom...

Somehow...

I should've trusted...I should've...trusted...my inner voice.

_ Young girl don't cry, I'll be right there when you're world starts to fall_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hunter X Hunter; the song The Voice Within is by Christina Aguilera from her album Stripped...?!? What?!? Another one of her songs?!? Oh, well...


End file.
